Petra-fied

Pink Palace
Originally uploaded by hazy jenius.

Everything has turned pink! No, it's not because I've left a red sock in with the whites, it's from hiking around Petra. To call this archaeological treasure the "Rose City" is almost unfair to the myriad of hues in the carved psychedelic swirls of rock. This century-concealed city could rival the colors of any paint store, with hues like salmon, russet, periwinkle, plum, powder blue, ash, ochre, burgundy, slate, thistle, ivory, and of course, Petra-pink! Those clever carvers had chosen rock that provided natural decor.

Petra is Jordan's most famous attraction, a city hewn from towering rock by the ancient Nabateans, conquered and abandoned by the Romans, hidden for centuries by the Bedouin, "rediscovered" by a Swiss, and most recently made famous by Sean Connery and Harrison Ford. For some tourists Petra might be the only site they see in Jordan. There are even "1 Day Tours" from Sinai to Petra. This astounds me. These poor tourists must roll up in the bus, race through "the Siq," (a deep narrow gorge hemmed in by cliffs soaring up to 200 M high and as narrow as 2M wide) snap some shots of the Treasury and get herded right back out onto the bus via overpriced gift shops. Such a shame! I spent 3 days exploring the city and barely scratched the surface. Petra is huge and there are enough hikes in the area to keep one busy for a week. Unfortunately I was cursed with a bad knee from my climb up Mt. Sinai (they say those that step foot on the mountain are damned, and now I believe it's true!) My inability to agilely shimmy up cliff faces like I wanted to severely hampered my exploration of the "8th Wonder of the Ancient World." I was gimping along so badly by the second day that I was forced to swallow my pride and ride a mule up the 800 steps to the monastery. The mule and the Bedouin guide ran up the narrow, steep steps at full speed, knocking people off the path or leaving a pile of donkey dung for them to step in if they had managed to escape from the flying hooves. Panting hikers and little old ladies would scream at me "that's cheating!" How embarrassing and unsatisfying! I felt rotten getting to the top without breaking a sweat.

Luckily, Petra not only has natural beauty and ancient marvels to offer, but also surprisingly friendly inhabitants. Around every corner you would find a dope-smoking Bedouin woman with a weathered, tattooed face more eager to share sugary tea and smiles than to push her wares. The man who took me on the mule went by "Dr. Love" and his ass was named "Jack" (great names!) He had invited me to share a meal and meet his family in the village, Wadi Musa. Partly for the experience, and party for the transportation of my broken body up the steep hill to the town, I accepted his offer. His family was lovely, all making a huge fuss over me. There was tea (this is just the beginning of many tea stories!) excited sign language, and little ones dancing to Beyonce for my entertainment. The four sisters took turns dressing me in various headscarf styles, expertly lining my eyes and spraying me with flowery scents. Upon leaving, they insisted that I accept jewelry and clothes as gifts. This hospitality was not what I expected from the town where over half of Jordan's tourist revenue came from. I was lucky I suppose, as I have heard horror stories of this tourist-trap town from fellow travelers. Little did I know the best was yet to come.

On day three, Dr. Love invited me to a Bedouin bachelor party. As a foreign woman I was given "honorary male" status and invited to the outdoor dancing for the men, while the women gathered in the building across the street and watched from the balcony, cheering on the men with clapping and ululations. I was the only woman, and only foreigner, yet somehow was made to feel comfortable and welcome. Dignified men looking like sheiks sat warming themselves next to small fires, drinking tea while the younger men danced under strings of fairy lights. Musicians took turns at the mike, playing their hearts out on tablas, lutes and even bagpipes! The men circled counter-clockwise, holding hands, and moving their feet together in co-ordinated steps, with the younger, clumsy boys trailed along the end of the line, trying to keep up. As the music grew more intense, so did the dance. Suddenly there would be an explosion of music and flying leaps. The young men stomped and high kicked, sending dust flying into the air. It was a combination of Cossack squats, African jumps, Riverdance footwork and belly dancer shimmies. They had the same cowboy energy in their dance as they did when running up hills after donkeys and fat (gimpy) tourists. I couldn't stop smiling. And smiling. And smiling.

Chronic Pharaonic Fatigue

Hieroglyphs
Originally uploaded by hazy jenius.

Travelling Egypt is:

A Thousand and One Nights

of Tasty Delights

Baksheesh Fights

Sandy Sights

Towering Heights

Temples and Lights

Bedbug Bites

Day one in Cairo, First stop: The Egyptian museum. What an introduction into Egypt! I walked around wide-eyed and jaw agape all day as I explored the massive building jam-packed with ancient treasures. History was coming to life for me then and there as I remembered studying this ancient civilization in school. My childhood imagination was vivid, but nothing like the display of grandeur and innovation laid out before me. The museum teemed with clues to the grandeur and innovation of pharaonic life: golden serpentine masks, alabaster caskets with obsidian knobs, beds shaped like leopards, and stools with legs craved like a geese. Ebony and Ivory. Lotus Buds and Scarabs. All the Egyptian Gods were present too, in both human and animal form. Hippos, Falcons, Crocodiles, Jackals and Lions all paraded by one the walls of sarcophagi. The tales of the ancient gods are so creative and fascinating to hear or see eloquently come to life on the wall of a tomb.

Cruising down the Nile on the M.S. Crocodile... Temple after temple, each started to look the same. I had hieroglyphs and tombs swimming madly before my eyes. I had succumbed to chronic Pharoanic fatigue. But one experience on the Nile stood out from the rest. I visited Luxor's Mummification museum where a group of Italian Archeaologists were giving a lecture on their current excavation of the "Tomb of Harwa" in the Valley of the Kings. The team had begun excavation in 1995 and more than a decade later, they still hadn't finished uncovering their pharoanic find. The team showed slides of the state they had found the tomb in, the process of cleaning centuries of sludge off tiny bits of crumbled carvings, and the painstaking assembly of the pieces of hieroglyphic puzzle. This lecture made me appreciate those that made Egyptology their life's work. Excavation is still going on, and new discoveries are still being made. It is estimated that it will take 75 more years just to finish excavating Karnak!

How did this once glorious empire deteriorate into the state that it's in today? How did these innovators and leaders in science, architecture and art fall so far? Due to poverty and lack of education, Egyptians are now forced to exploit the genius of their ancestors as their main means of income. The colorful stories of the ancient gods fall on deaf ears. Most Egyptians are Muslim, and any religion believing in more than one god, much less depicting them on temples is deemed sacrilegious. Many Egyptians are nationalistic and proud, but surprisingly, it isn't the ancient builders of the pyramids that they cite as sources of pride, but rather more contemporary political figures. It is a shame that the only interest most modern Egyptians seem to have in their history is how to rip off tourists by showing it to them.

Giving Thanks

Summit on Mt. Moses
Originally uploaded by hazy jenius.

I am so behind on my blogs my head just spins at the thought of back-blogging, so I'll start with the here and now. Yesterday Ahmed, my Egyptian "husband" (there is no boyfriend/girlfriend relationship in Islam. We say we're married so people will respect me and the police won't arrest him.) and I decided to tackle Mt. Sinai (Moses Mountain.) For me, making the hike up the famous mountain wasn't as much of a pilgramage as was something I HAD to do before leaving Sinai. For Ahmed it was one of the last days we had to spend together before I left for the rest of my Middle East journeys (I'll be back to Dahab in a few months in Sh'allah.) I've climbed heaps, and done a sunrise summit of Mt. Fuji, so Mt.Sinai was relatively easy. For Ahmed things were a little more difficult. Although there are hundreds of tourists that come to Mt. Sinai and the St. Catherine Monastary very few are Egyptians. Ahmed was hassled and questioned very thouroughly as to what his intentions were by the guards. More difficult than getting him in the gates was getting him up the mountain! Ahmed had never been hiking before, and he certainly hadn't ever dealt with cold like this before. Add that to the fact that we started the hike around the time when he should be sleeping soundly and you get one very unhappy camper! About 30 minutes into the hike he said he wanted to go back down. Going down was next to impossible, as the path was packed with Jewish and Christian pilgrams, Russian toursits bussed in from Sharm El Sheik and loads of crapping camels with Bedouin guides offering "helpa helpa". With much coaxing, and a little bickering, we finally made the summit. It was bitterly cold at the top, but the sounds of prayers and hymns and the sight of the sun peeking over the vast landscape beneath warmed both our bones and our hearts. True, it was terribly touristy and a little trashed, but it was much more peacful and serene than the circus that I found at the summit of Mt. Fuji, Japan. The mountain itself is an unparalled work of nature, and it's easy to see why so many found this place a pathway to God. As far as Thanksgiving goes, I didn't spend it eating turkey with cranberry sauce, but I did find plenty to be thankful for. I gave thanks to the beauty of Sinai and the hospitality it's people have granted me for the year that I have lived here. I gave thanks for finding someone as lovely as Ahmed to help me accept and understand the culture and religion and people of Egypt. Finally, I gave thanks that I have the ways and means of having such wonderful experiences all over the world. I consider myself very lucky on days like these, and that I am forever thankful.

The Big Mango

Cairo Housing
Originally uploaded by hazy jenius.

I consider myself a well-seasoned traveller. I've battled pick-pocketing gypsies in Rome, sweated-out midnight trains crammed with drunken Japanese salarymen, and forced down bowls of intestines and larvae in Tibetan Yak-Hair tents as not to offend my hosts. Of course Cairo abounds with the expected hassles of travel, but still managed to throw me for some unexpected loops!

I tried to dress conservatively for my visit to a Muslim country, but even my casual clothes seemed to be attracting unwanted attention. The massive sunnies and fake wedding band didn't fend off the lewd stares, and obvious comments, so after a few days I added baggy clothes and head scarves to my disguise. Despite my efforts, the harassment continued. I was followed home by strange men every day, sometimes I would find them waiting at the entrance to my hotel. I addapted by learning some essential Arabic: "Show some respect," "Watch you hands, or I'll throw my sandal at you" and "In your dreams, you dog!"

Still , I was pushed, grabbed, yelled at and was even a target for a group of bullying schoolgirls (projectile apple cores!) I fended off street urchins trying to snatch the sunglasses off my face and had to use my best kick-boxing moves to defend myself from an esspecially aggressive perv. I even spotted a local resident gratifying himself over a tombstone...while watching and smiling at me. Eeeeeeeeewwwww!
I just didn't get it! what had I done to deserve this? How was I attracting this unwanted attention? Seems like "the Big Mango" tends to turn sour, especially after Ramadan, when the masses have been dying for food, a fag, and a shag. Could this be the reason for my week of torment in this city of sand? On the bright side, leaving Cairo made me appreciate the rest of my Egyptian travels.
Oh, and the pyramids were nice too.

City of Angels and Devils

My Angel
Originally uploaded by hazy jenius.

I had timed my arrival in the Middle east as to avoid Ramadan, but I was lucky to arrive just in time for "Eid," the celebration following the days of fasting. One day I was passing by a mosque courtyard filled with people sitting on the ground. I was confused as to what they were gathering there for. I was both surprised and delighted when a group asked me to come sit with them. No one spoke any English, but they were overjoyed to have such a strange guest in their midst. Suddenly, chanting bellowed from the mosque loudspeakers, and as if by magic, bread, chicken, salads, lentils, vegetables, sweets and endless cups of tea all came out of hiding and made their way to my plate. These people shared everything they had with me. Some gave me looks of scorn, others bewilderment, but when I gave them a smile, more often than not it was generously returned.

Coffins and Cough'ins. Hello Cairo

Chaotic Cairo
Originally uploaded by hazy jenius.

FROGGER.

The pyramids might be one of the last remaining wonders of the ancient world, but Cairo's traffic left me bewildered and in awe. Roads packed with careening trucks, tourist-packed busses steered by wild-eyed drivers weaving in and out of "lanes," and thousands of taxis honking madly, just because that seems to be what Cairo taxi drivers do best. By far, Cairo's biggest transportation challenge was crossing this mad mix of vehicles to get to the other side.

Four years in Japan trained me not to even think about crossing the street unless the green light says go, even with no cars in sight. I quickly had to ditch the habits of conformity and throw myself wildly into a potentially deadly game of FROGGER. SPLAT! I found the safest approach was to find a local Egyptian and use him as a human shield. Walk, scurry, duck and skitter in step with him, shoulder to shoulder, until reaching safety (a small side street where perhaps the main vehicular threat would be a renegade donkey cart.) 9 times out of 10, after completing the crossing safely, my human splat-guard would turn to me and say, "See? Now you can walk like an Egyptian. Now how about walking to my papyrus shop?"